


Where Dragons Fall

by Dragon_Of_The_South_Wind (Hoodie_2_Shoes)



Series: Together We Map The World [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Acceptance, Backstory, Dragons, Drama, Family, Flirting, Forgiveness, Gen, Gore, Hanzo is afraid of flying, Hanzo loves his bow, Hanzo met McCree before, Hanzo still has his legs, Hanzo-centric, M/M, Near-death Scenarios, Noodle Dragons, Post-Recall, Pre-Recall, Pre-cyborg Genji, Prequel, ProstheticBros, Prosthetics I guess, Shimada Clan, Tracer still flies, Young!Genji, Young!Hanzo, semi-prosthetics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7998571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodie_2_Shoes/pseuds/Dragon_Of_The_South_Wind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How foolish of me, thinking you could see through their deception and agree with me on all this madness, but no. Perhaps being the master of the clan is too tempting."</p><p>Hanzo felt as if punched, an invisible shard twisting in his insides, scrambling his guts. Hearing these words from his brother's lips crippled him more than any sword could. "If this is what you wish for, Hanzo, go on and finish your task. But I would not go down without a fight. Not when my death would be responsible for my brother's downfall."</p><p> </p><p>Prequel, Spin-off and continuation to the Overwatch universe inspired by the Animated Short, "Dragons".</p><p> </p><p>*Major Edit completed on 13 Dec 2016. Revisit for earlier readers recommended!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hanamura

**Author's Note:**

> "Where Dragons Fall" is the first part in the "Together We Map The World" series, which is planned to consist of four works: Three back story build-up for Hanzo Shimada, Jesse McCree, and Reinhardt Wilhelm, leading up to a long(er)-running original work estimated at 8-12 chapters.
> 
> This is my imagining of what went down between the Shimada Brothers, spanning from their post-adolescent years, to Genji's fall, to their eventual confrontation and finally Hanzo's recruitment in Overwatch. 
> 
> Note that this work is completed on late September 2016 and underwent major edits in early December 2016 to fix certain segments I'm unsatisfied with, tweak continuation errors and arrange follow-ups to future works. No major events in the original version has been altered as far as this author is concerned. Also note that major events in the canon (approximate dates, order of appearance of characters) has been taken into account with only minor liberties taken. In short, this is meant to compliment the canon lore with creative decisions made when not interfering with facts in the official content. (But Blizz themselves have trouble with timelines, so there's that.)
> 
> Disclaimers aside, here's my first work in the OW fandom. A huge thanks to those willing to give it a try, and any criticism or errors spotted are appreciated! Thank you for supporting my work!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo is given a devastating task to secure his position as the master of the Shimada clan.

_"My family tells of an ancient legend about two great dragon brothers : the Dragon Of The North Wind, and the Dragon of The South Wind. Together, they upheld balance and harmony in the heavens..."_

 

Our story is not like those our ancestors told us. Legends are mythical beasts, full of grandeur and wonders. No, legends do not carry as much burden as we do.

Our story is laced with too much pain.

***

1

Hanzo has always preferred a bow and arrow even before he made his first kill; the katana has too short a reach for his liking. True, one who wields the Japanese sword possesses a certain level of deadliness, one with grace and beauty even in the act of killing, but then again, Hanzo has never been as poetic as his kin.

Now, dimly illuminated by the moonlight, Hanzo's Storm Bow slowly pulsed with a neon turquoise glow. His weapon seemed to have a life of its own, the metallic blue-striped ornaments humming with energy whenever drawn. Hanzo has came to bond with it, entrusting his life to this piece of metal that was long since more than a part of who he was.

Hanzo always felt that he has the upper hand when he was high up like this, perching on a pagoda's tiled roof, overlooking the world. He wanted to be as close to the heavens as possible; somehow he would feel at peace and secure at this height, the spiritual creatures that soar the sky keeping him safe. Being almost four stories high gave him a view as far out as the city skyline could offer: brightly lit apartments and office buildings, fluorescent lighting from signboards and windows merging together into a greenish-yellow hue, the tinge of urban glow creeping upwards into the night sky like a brush of watercolor. 

What is it with this city and the color green anyway? Was it because of how the lush shade of chartreuse complements the fuscia sakuras that are so abundant in Hanamura? Hanzo much preferred the color blue, from the proud navy to the calming cerulean to the gentle cornflower, and it shows: his bow, his room wallpaper, his dragons. He once saw an old French film recommended by Genji based on his love for the color, and while it wasn't anything Hanzo expected from the title alone, he could argue that it is indeed both a cold and warm color, soothing and turbulent, quiet and powerful, passion and discipline. It reminds him of the ocean, the rolling of the tide. 

Hanzo has never been near a sea. 

From a distance, he watched with a frown as Hayato's convoy slowly make its way to the Shimada castle. It was not that difficult to spot; not everyday that you see five jet black Rolls Royces travelling in Hanamura, hovering over the brick roads. Not someone to be called low-key, Hayato is. 

The air was chilly up here, Hanzo realized, his paper-thin _kyudo-gi_ barely able to keep him from being prickled numb by the gust of wind. His arm, intricately tattooed with two dragons in flight from his collarbone to his wrist, was already tinted red by the cold. No point staying here any longer.

Hanzo gazed at the neon-lit streets of Hanamura for a moment longer before standing up, his Storm Bow in hand. With four quick leaps he was already back on the ground.

_Light as a sparrow._

As he made his way to the guest room, raven-colored hair swaying in the breeze, he could feel his grip on the bow tighten considerably. He made a conscious effort to relax, to stop the excessive sweating in his palm, but the distant sound of wooden gates swinging open and the omnic guards rushing in and out was a constant reminder of the horrifying ordeal to come. Everything felt restless that night: the nervous rustle of evening breeze that sent thousands of pink petals blanketing the marble floor, the bustling streets of Hanamura cut off by the looming castle walls, the flow of traffic accompanied by the more-than-occasional honks and screeches, the shouts of Omnics and humans alike over the courtyard. They normally do not trouble Hanzo; overcoming all distractions was a key part of his training. His mind was too occupied for that right now. They were starting to grind on his gears. 

The moon was oddly bright with the night still young, hanging low above the horizon against the murky gray backdrop. Ahead of him, warm orange light streamed out of the _shoji_ s, anxious silhouettes working against the paper panels. The housekeepers, perhaps, preparing the room for those bunch of-

Hanzo jumped, retrieved an arrow from his quiver and nocked it in one fluid motion when he felt a hand tap his shoulder, strung up as he was. 

"Woah, easy, _aniki_ ," The brush of spiky green hair bounced playfully as Genji backed up, apparently startled by Hanzo's intimidating bow as much as his brother was by his sudden appearance. He had a slender build, one of an assassin that, along with his gift of near silent movement and incredible speed, moves like a shadow even when he didn't mean to. It was no wonder that Genji was bound to be the ninja their father had always hoped of him, while Hanzo was still struggling to see his path. "Don't want to get myself a hole in the stomach, now," Genji said with a ringing laugh. Loud, out in the open. Precisely what he shouldn't be at this very moment.

Hanzo, slightly terrified, pulled him along to a darker alley behind the nearest building, dragging the collar of his orange jacket, stern hazel eyes looking down on his sibling. "I thought I told you to stay inside! They are almost here!" He whispered hoarsely, an accusing index finger pointed at his brother's chest. 

Genji put on his carefree smile, not at all intimidated by his brother looming over him. "I know, Hanzo, just taking a late evening stroll. Besides," the smugness returned to his face, "they won't see me in a million years if I don't want them to. Do you expect them to find me even when you, a trained Shimada prince, can't hear me get close?"

Hanzo let out a weary sigh, his voice soften a little. Sweet talking was another one of Genji's tricks, not his. "Just make sure you don't get caught. You know how Hayato feels about you, with all that Overwatch business you got yourself caught into. " Catching his shift of mood, Hanzo added, "You ought to be more careful by now; It is all over the news. The elders would not be happy, and it is best that you lay low and let me handle this mess."

Just like that, Genji's previously easy smile melted away into the shadows, and where they stood grew a few shades darker. He seldom took things seriously, but Hanzo knew better than to poke at them when he did. That, at least, was Shimada enough. Dragons do not bow. 

"Have you seen what the Shimada clan has become of late, Hanzo? They have nothing to fear if they are clean. Those bastards think they hold all the power now, and the clan has been spiralling out of control since father got ill. We're supposed to be a business empire, not some gangsters with our hands wrist-deep in blood! You of all people should see that!" Hanzo stood his ground calmly against Genji's outburst, ever the steady rock in a storm. Apparently Genji was nowhere near done yet. "I want no part in this mess, Hanzo. I know it sounds tough, but it is long past due that we dissolve the Shimada clan while we still have the chance. It is doing nothing but harm to this world. You and I? Our talents can serve something much better, to save lives, to right wrongs in this world." Genji was close to pleading. 

Hanzo loosened his grip, and made himself pause for Genji to recollect himself. "This is not the life that you wish for, I know, but you and I are the heirs to the Shimada clan, and nothing can change that. It is what we were born for. If we do not put matters into our own hands, their power will only grow stronger." He gripped his brother's shoulder forcefully, holding Genji's indignant gaze. "Joining Overwatch is a dream and only that, you should know well enough. I cannot hope for the better that you will find true purpose in life, but once you don that identity, there will be a bounty on your head. And by then, even I couldn't protect you."

Genji tried to snap back, but was interrupted by an omnic guard whizzing towards them. "Master Hanzo, your presence is requested in the guest room."

Hanzo patted his frustrated brother's shoulder once more before turning to leave. "Stay out of trouble, _otouto_."

\---

Bare-footed and kneeling on a silk tatami, Hanzo found himself not at all struggling to meet his elder's eyes. A definite improvement from their last meeting. Hayato Shimada has eyes worthy of his namesake, sharp and piercing, the creases on his cheek and forehead unable to blunt his ruthlessness. If any, he seemed much more terrifying when Hanzo was still a child, with his calculating looks and watchful eyes always looking out for the young siblings. "Some people gain wisdom over age," his father had told him, "and your uncle is one of the wisest men I know."

_Look how that turned out, father. You ending up on a bed, barely breathing, with y_ _our beloved brother scrambling for your throne._

The grey-haired man sat cross-legged at the far end, surrounded by two armed bodyguards in suits. Hanzo himself still carried his quiver of arrows on his back, his jarringly huge bow resting awkwardly on the table. A tad impolite, perhaps, but he couldn't care less. His needed his only defense to be within reach.

Along the sides were seated with a dozen other Shimada clan members, some in their traditional Japanese _wafuku_ and others in formal suits, every one decades older than he was. None of them said a word, perhaps intent to let the eldest do all the talking, and strangely fixated on their cups of tea in front of them. Hanzo could tell a storm is brewing. He kept his eyes on the dozen of koi fishes hanging on the wall and the lonely pot of bonsai tree sitting underneath the bamboo scroll. 

" _Konbanwa_ , Hanzo, glad you didn't keep this old man waiting for long," Hayato mused, his voice reverberating in the room. "It's been a long ride from Hokkaido, and I wouldn't want to stay here in Hanamura for longer than I need be. This place reeks of-"

" _Oji-sama_ , if you don't mind," came Hanzo's blunt interruption. "but it would please everyone present if you could speak freely without the bells and whistle. It's been a long day for me as well."

No one from the rest of the clan batted an eye; the Shimada brothers' rebellious nature was well known.

" _Wakaru_. I understand." Hayato paused, taking a sip from his teacup. That dramatic _kusojijii_.

"I hate being the one to break it to you, Hanzo, but your father is dying." Hayato said, jaded brown eyes as wide as Hanzo has ever seen. "You can deny the truth laid before you, but the time has arrived for you to pick up the family business, to inherit your grandfather's legacy. If you still have the intention, that is." Hanzo could feel the old man's eyes boring into his, searching for a shred of doubt. He wouldn't give him the pleasure.

"What is expected, _oji-sama_." Hanzo sat up straighter, trying to have a greater presence in the room. "But I suppose you mean me and Genji. I could not rule alone in this den of wolves without someone I can trust by my side." Hanzo sensed a twinge of anger burning in Hayato's eyes. Good.

Right away, a wave of unease swept over the room. Some immediately picked up their teacup for a sip, others bent lower than they were before, hell bent on avoiding eye contact. He wasn't sure whether it was due to the mention of Genji or his rude remark, or both.

"Ah, yes, your brother," Hayato continued as if nothing had happened, the wistful smile returning to his lips. "This reminds me. From what I know, Genji has got himself involved with outside forces that the clan wishes to have no acquaintances with. The last time I heard, your little brother met up with an Overwatch agent in what he told the press was an 'chance encounter'. You know what I think, Hanzo?" He twirled his finger over a snowy white moustache, thinking over his next sentence. A punchline.

"He might as well tell us he hired a slut to make him supper."

The old man roared with a bark of laughter and, to Hanzo's disgust, was followed suit by some in the room. When the ruckus died down under Hanzo's deadly stare, Hayato's expression took a dark turn. Tentative, cautious, but on edge. 

"The Shimada clan has been in the fray for the past half century, and we rarely find ourselves in rough waters, seeing how well your father and his father before him dealt with these matters. But your _brother_ ," The word was accented with sarcastic bitterness, like how someone would address a parasite freshly dug from a brain. "he has put the clan in a dangerous position. I believe Genji didn't have to guts to turn us over, but what he does is, ultimately, a threat to the clan.

"Then we have you," he said with a wry smile, the crackling not yet gone from his voice. "Eldest son of the great Hiroki Shimada, ready to be master of the clan at 26, but not even old enough to bed a woman."

Hanzo could feel his neck flush furiously, and was dismayed to hear a couple of smirks. His own voice rose; courtesy is out of the window now. "I don't see how all this add up to anything, _oji-sama_."

"Well, truth is, with all these," he made a shimmering gesture with his long, gnarled fingers, " _shows_ you and your brother pull off lately, you can't really blame us for worrying about the future of our clan. Let us be honest, we both know Genji's heart belongs anywhere but here. But you, Hanzo, do we truly know where your loyalty lays?"

Enraged, Hanzo struck the table with his fist, startling everybody, but Hayato barely flinched. The mahogany creaked in protest. "You dare to question my honor? I am a Shimada, and always will be, and I will defend my family name even if it is the last thing I do!"

Hayato brightened, failing to cover the dangerous gleam of a smile on his lips, but Hanzo was too provoked to notice. "We have your word, then? I suppose it is only fair to give you a chance to prove yourself. To show the clan that you are truly the master they can bow to."

Hanzo felt a stir in his guts, telling him that he was being checkmated, playing the game exactly how Hayato wanted. He was walking right into a trap, but there was no turning back now. Not with so many eyes on him.

"Whatever means necessary." He replied curtly.

"Wonderful. You need not be anxious, it would be nothing more than a simple mission. One to put the clan's greatest nuisance in check."

Dread rose from his insides; the falcon had him in its claws. Hayato's faint grin of satisfaction was a sure enough sign that, from now on, life would not go easy on Hanzo Shimada. 

It never did before, and it certainly did not right now. 

"We need you to settle the score with Genji."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note :  
> Kusojijii : Old fart  
> Aniki : big brother  
> Otouto : younger brother  
> Wakaru : I understand (inf)  
> Oji-sama : uncle  
> Konbanwa : good evening  
> References :  
> [Hayato's Rolls Royce](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/528117493779839421), [Hanzo's resting pagoda and sakuras](http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/overwatch/images/d/dd/Hanamura_screenshot_21.png/revision/latest?cb=20160626193608), [his secretly favourite film (not really) with Genji](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2278871), [a smaller traditional Japanese guest room](https://sociorocketnewsen.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/museum_fc3bcr_ostasiatische_kunst_dahlem_berlin_mai_2006_017.jpg), and [a koi ink drawing](http://www.inkdancechinesepaintings.com/koi-fish/picture/2361011.jpg).  
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jasonlyj99), [Tumblr](http://crusader-online99.tumblr.com/), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jasonl_ens)!  
> 


	2. Clash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo's plan took a deadly turn.

2

As Hayato's words dawned on him, Hanzo could feel the room shifting under his feet. More eyes rose to meet his now, concerned and expectant stares mingled into one.

"I do not understand," Hanzo said, utterly defeated. The old man surely didn't ask him to...

"Bring us Genji's head." Hayato replied, his fingers crossed into an arc in front of him with his elbows resting on the table. "That is all we will ask of you."

Hanzo lost his grasp of control. In a flurry of movement, he already has his arrow drawn taut, aiming at the soft spot between Hayato's eyebrows. The others, seeing the scene on the brink of pandemonium, scrambled backwards. He could have ended the meeting there and then, but conscious and reason reined him in, and it was only too long later that he could see two gun barrels pointing at him.

"All you ask? Genji is my _brother_! What you're asking of me is fratricide! Murdering my kin! Outrageous!" Hanzo growled. He didn't back down; his brother's life was hanging on a thread. He would not be intimidated by some petty bodyguards.

"Then we have our problem," Hayato said in a sympathetic tone, so fake it hurt Hanzo's ears. "How do we know that the two of you wouldn't work together with those Overwatch scum to tear us down? It seems that Genji is just one badge shy from being one of them, after all.

"I'm afraid he is already lost. But _you_ , Hanzo, you have greatness inside you; the blood of the dragons flows in your veins. All you need is a little push to get there, and we are here to help fan the flames. Show us your worth, Hanzo, and I can foresee an era in which the Shimada clan prospered."

"And earn myself the name of a kinslayer?" Hanzo scoffed, not disguising the revulsion in his words. "Forgive me, _oji-sama_ , but this is not what the Shimada name stands for. " He released his arrow from the string, turning to leave. 

And saw two quivering red dots traced on his bare chest.

"Surely you didn't expect us to let you walk away like that, _kozo_." Hayato said to his back, the sinister drawl back in his voice. "We could have dealt with you two behind the blinds, make it look like an accident. We're offering you this choice because you are the true heir to the clan after all, and a competent leader after Hiro. But make no mistake, we would never allow anyone, inside or out, to soil the Shimada name."

He would never walk out of this alive, Hanzo knew, nor would Genji if he stood his ground. He needed to come up with a way out of this. And fast.

He drew out a long breath, trying to keep his voice as defeated as possible. "A clean death. And father shall never hear about this."

"No more shall be asked." The dots vanished with a clap of his hands. "You shall bring honor to the clan, Hanzo, and cleanse the family name. Make the elders proud. "

As everyone left in a scurry of footsteps and Hanzo was left alone in the room, he sat cross-legged, face buried in his palms, mind racing through all the possibilities on how this might end.

Each scenario was more horrifying than the last.

But slowly a plan emerged. One that just might get the two brothers out of this shitstorm alive.

Parts of them, at the very least.

\---

_"...but the two brothers argued over who could better rule their land. Their quarrel turned to rage and their violent struggle darkened the skies, until the Dragon Of The South Wind struck down his brother, who fell to earth, shattering the land..."_

 

"Hanzo!"

The young archer stood motionless on the balcony overlooking Hanamura, humming with life as its occupants started to flow into pubs and arcades mere hours after dusk; Fuji stood in the distance, snow starting to slowly accumulating around the peak as winter began closing in. His grip on the bow tightened, fighting the impulse to turn around at the sound of incoming footsteps. He has to play the part convincingly from now on to pull it off. Hayato's eyes are everywhere.

Genji, oblivious to the danger, came leaping to his side. "You were looking for me, Hanzo? How did the meeting go? Did uncle..."

Hanzo cut him off with a raise of his palm, expression grave. "Don't look around. Don't panic. They placed three snipers on the roof across from here." There was a brief window in his speech, more to prepare himself than for Genji.

"They want me to kill you."

Stunned silence ensued. What seemed like an eternity passed before Genji spoke again, his voice dark with loathing. "Orders from the clan? That asshole, thinking he could-"

"Listen. You have your sword?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I need you to fight me."

As his words sank in, Genji stared in disbelief, his voice a hurt whimper. "You _promised_ them? How could you?"

"They were pointing their fucking _guns_ at my heart!" Hanzo whispered through gritted teeth. His argument sounded weak in his own ears. "If we are to survive this, you need to trust-"

"No."

Hanzo turned around for the first time, watching as Genji retreated to the center of the platform. Looking into those hazel eyes, Hanzo could see tears on the brim. Tears of betrayal and sorrow, spinning and threatening to fall from his brother's pale cheeks. His heart was torn in two by the sight of them. "Genji..."

"That _yowamushi_ wanted you to spill blood! Are you truly so blind as to not see through their deceit? It would not end; with Shimada blood on your own hands, do you think you will be in any position to refuse doing their dirty deeds? Is this what you want, Hanzo? To clean up their mess and be their sword-for-hire?"

His tears _did_ fall by then, two crystal-clear droplets of pain, leaving behind trails that sparkled in the moonlight. They stopped as abruptly as they came; Genji stood up straight, slowly pulling his katana from his sheath, positioning himself for combat. His sudden indifference and clouded expression sent shivers down Hanzo's spine. "How foolish of me, thinking you could see through their deception and agree with me on all this madness, but no. Perhaps being the master of the clan is too tempting."

Hanzo felt as if punched, an invisible shard twisting in his insides, scrambling his guts. Hearing these words from his brother's lips crippled him more than any sword could. "If this is what you wish for, Hanzo, go on and finish your task. But I would not go down without a fight. Not when my death would be responsible for my brother's downfall."

Choked with guilt, Hanzo could feel his defense melting away, his feet shuffling forward to reach out for his little brother. "Genji, _please_ , lis-"

Blades.

The shuriken was inches away when Hanzo saw the light reflecting off the edges. He immediately dropped to the ground, but not before the blades grazed his forehead. His vision was turned red by the trickle of blood.

Another flash of light entered his sight, and he instinctively dodged to the left. The blade came down where his shoulder was milliseconds ago.

Hanzo jolted back up, letting his arrows loose to deflect the shurikens flying his way. Soon, Genji's katana came raining down with terrifying ferocity, and Hanzo could barely block the blows with his bow. The sharp clanging of metals filled the night air as sparks flew with every impact. He tried to yell out over the combat, but Genji barely gave him the chance to breathe. 

The Storm Bow is not made for close combat, and Hanzo could feel his arms straining under the weight. It was too heavy to keep up with Genji's strokes, his katana dancing with blazing speed. Hanzo has to put an end to his relentless pursuit.

He jumped back, nocked his scatter arrow, and released. It shattered into a dozen shards upon contact with the walls, forcing Genji to retreat and deflect the splinters with his sword. By the time they lost effect, the two brothers were standing with a 10-metre gap in between.

Instead of charging, Genji stood where he was and held his katana in front of his face, eyebrows knotted in concentration. Hanzo watched in horror as the air around the blade solidified, a shimmering mist of green shrouding his brother.

"Genji NO!"

_"Ryuujin no ken O KURAE!"_

The green light suddenly focused into a stream, taking a huge, reptilian shape. Whiskers, horns, scales. Deadly eyes that gleamed with fury. 

Genji's dragon.

With jaws wide open, the creature grew and writhed in the air, finally charging forwards with a swipe of his blade-

-and it came soaring towards Hanzo, a deafening roar screaming into his ears.

With no time to think, Hanzo nocked another arrow, feeling the spirits within him stirring. His tattoos crackled with electricity, illuminating his arm with a blue glow. With his bow drawn taut, two streams of energy coiling his left arm flowed into the grip, converging at the arrowhead, vibrating with newfound power.

_"Ryuu ga waka teki WO KURAU!"_

One second the arrow was zipping through the air, the next, two full-grown dragons burst into existence, surging forward in an intertwined spiral, their bellowing shaking the ground, leaving behind two blue trails that burned with blinding luminosity.

Where the three dragons met, white hot sparks flew everywhere, their thunderous roars merging into one ear-splitting battle cry.

But they did not stop.

Genji's dragon scrapped through the hollow space between his own, still charging at full speed. Hanzo leaped out of its path after the incoming dragon jolted him out of his reverie, but his legs were caught in the dragon's flexing tail. A cry of pain escaped his mouth, a burning sensation clawing its way up from his calves to his thighs. To his side, the creature dissipated into thin air.

Seething, Hanzo pushed himself up onto his elbow, a small part of him relieved to see his Storm Bow at his side, unscathed. He looked around, and his heart stopped when he saw Genji lying face down on the floor.

He wasn't moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick notes :  
> Seishōnen : young one  
> Yowamushi : coward  
> References:  
> [The balcony in Shimada castle](http://i.imgur.com/JyZPCS6r.png), and [in case you don't what Hanzo and Genji's dragons look like](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/powerlisting/images/3/38/Genji_Overwatch_Dragons.gif/revision/latest?cb=20160706213238).
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jasonlyj99), [Tumblr](http://crusader-online99.tumblr.com/), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jasonl_ens)!  
> 


	3. Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo deals with the aftermath of his battle with Genji.

3

Hanzo tried to crawl to where his brother now laid, but excruciating pain shot up whenever his feet and ankles were dragged across the floor. He managed to slide across the wooden surface for barely a foot before giving up, the stinging too much to bear. The throbbing has reached his hips, and the pain, oh, the pain.

Make it fucking stop.

He took a shaky glance down his chest, and had to bite down his fist to muffle a cry at the sight of what were once his lower limbs.

Every piece clothing beneath his upper thighs has been incinerated, leaving burnt remains of fabric that did nothing to cover the hideous wound underneath. His bare feet, scorched by the Dragonblade, was shiny red and oozing blood, the tip of his toes an unhealthy shade of brown. His calves were caught in the flames as well, revealing pinkish flesh with the skin burnt off and covered in blisters.

His thighs seemed to be free from any open wounds, but even those are tinted red, and Hanzo could feel his muscles on fire, thousands of red hot needles squirming into his marrow.

He tried to wiggle his toes. No response. Nerve endings were probably fried too.

"Genji..." His voice turned into a breathless rasp. His vision was dimming from pain, but he could still make out the limp figure on the floor, clothes singed black and releasing an unpleasant smell of burnt flesh. _No, please don't._ Hanzo could only hope that his twin dragons missed his face and vitals...

...but he didn't believe that himself. His aim was true. There was no way to miss at such a short range. Nausea rose within him; all of a sudden he dreaded to see what's left of his brother.

He should have passed out from the pain, but he felt only dizziness with the room darkening and spinning, the wave of agony now crashing at the back of his mind, claws tugging and raking on his skin. How long did they intend to torture him?

He drifted in and out of consciousness for god knows how long, vaguely aware of a helicopter whizzing past, several urgent and heavy footsteps...

...and a blur of blue light? _Where the hell did that come from?_

Suddenly alerted, Hanzo tried to look up, but his eyelids were drooping. Too heavy.

A slender, almost feminine hand tugged at him, but he shook it off without a second thought. Just let me be. Let me die. I deserve this. 

"Angela! Leave him!" A hoarse, commanding sound growled in the distance. A moment later, Hanzo could feel himself surrounded by a blanket of warmth, the soreness in his legs ebbing away in an instant. The warm glow was as soothing as his mother's lap, smelling of flowers and earth and summertime rain...

He let himself drown in that blissful sensation, and slipped into the abyss.

\---

Death was neither swift nor painful.

Hanzo could feel himself riding these peaceful waves, his limp body moving with the tranquil but steady rhythm that reminds him of the tide. 

Is this what the ocean feels like?

No, this couldn't be water. He should be drowning, suffocating. Instead he could still breathe, his lungs free-

 _We roam the sky **and** sea_ , somewhere came a voice (voices?). _You can breathe easy. This is your home._

Somewhere, sometime, Hanzo had heard that voice before. It was his voice of reason, one he could entrust to. The knot in his chest loosened, and he let the current carry him freely. 

He remained suspended in oblivion for what seems like decades, the darkness engulfing his senses. If this was the end, Hanzo thought, he wished he would have arrived sooner.

The place where his legs would have been felt leaden. For a second there he was afraid of sinking, but it was only a nagging fear in his stomach and nothing more. He slept.

But then everything was blue. The air itself _glowed_ , and Hanzo opened his eyes to find himself face to face with two pairs of watchful gazes, jaded orbs so large he could see his own reflection. Eyes that had looked after him since childhood. They were soothing to see. And they were angry.

_You've made a grave mistake, Dragon child, and it would not do to bury yourself in grief. This tranquility is an illusion. Rise, seek redemption from your wrongdoings, and you will gain what you seek._

The twin Dragons swam upwards in a graceful spiral, leaving Hanzo in pitch black once again.

Before long a jet of green rose from the depths, and soon he was transfixed on the eyes of the Dragon Of The South Wind. This creature did not communicate; this one was wild, untamed.

And apparently injured as well. Its maw was strewn with a network of scars, reddish flesh where emerald scales should be. A large chunk of its left horn was missing, leaving a bloody yellow stump. 

It- No, not it, _he_ , the dragon corrected. He stared at Hanzo with piercing eyes, emitting a dangerous aura of animosity, leaving the man paralyzed. Then, Hanzo could see his expression softened ever so slightly, and the dragon opened his mouth. He said-

He said-

\---

"...slowly, Master Hanzo."

Hanzo was jolted awake, the blinding white lights overhead immediately sending a migraine straight through his brain. The steadily rising beeping of machinery nearby did nothing to ease his violent re-entry into consciousness.

There was a sharp jab somewhere near his elbow, and he could feel his muscles wind down, but not quite enough to pull him back under. At least the headache ceased.

After recalibrating himself, Hanzo pushed himself up into a sitting position on the mattress. He looked around, straining his neck; the white tiled walls and carts of silver medical equipment around his bed told him he was in the infirmary. The air smelled of sick and antiseptics, with the faint scent of blood hanging like cheap aftershave. The three cloaked surgeons by his side were alarmed, but no one tried to stop him.

Dr. Seishu's face greeted him first, bald and pale, a concerned look. "How long was I out?"

"About five days. Its Friday evening now."

 _Gods. Five days._ He flexed his numb fingers and neck, and shifted himself to find his footing-

His legs landed with a metallic crash.

Hanzo instinctively looked down, and was surprised to see his calves and feet clad in several interconnected pieces of steel. Its black and silver material had a distinctly futuristic look, with the legpieces ending in hoof-like shoes with a rusty glint.

"Master Hanzo... We're deeply sorry. The tissues were already dead and wasting away by the time we arrived, but the fire stopped any infection, so we managed to salvage what's left of your nervous system and install this...armor, that's a way to put it. A beauty, isn't it?"

Hanzo twisted his legs to examine the new piece of mechanism. He couldn't say he wasn't impressed; the pieces of metal responded as beautifully as his flesh. Another childish part of him marveled at how badass it looked. Hanzo would've felt proud of this upgrade if not for the fact that he almost lost his legs as an exchange.

"We've performed a surgery to connect the nerve endings, so your reflexes should have no problem. The weight might need some practice to get use to, but give it a few days, and you'll be up and walking in no time." Dr. Seishu concluded with a comforting smile. Hanzo's family doctor was one rare adult he enjoyed the acquaintance with, his warm, unjudging demeanor a distraction from disapproving frowns from the elders. It was calming to see a friendly face.

Hanzo stretched his feet a few times more, chuckling lightly at the robotic creaking near the joints. He wondered if the hooves should be shaded blue to suit his bow. And about the gloss...

A gentle rap on the door interrupted Hanzo's train of thoughts. In came the face Hanzo least wanted to see at this very moment.

"Hanzo! Glad to see you up and about," That sickeningly enthusiastic tone. Hayato entered the room in a full black _wafuku_ , escorted only to the door by another one of his bodyguards. "Don't give me that look, _kozo_ , I won't be around for too long. Now, I regret having to deliver such devastating news upon your recovery," Hayato paused just long enough for his heart to stop in his throat. "but your father has passed away three days earlier. He went peacefully. In his sleep. My condolences."

Hanzo could feel some life drain out of him, resurfaced memories of his childhood grabbing him by the throat. The grief was true, no doubt; but another part of him was relieved. The old man was already hanging on for far too long.

"I understand your pain, Hanzo, I truly do," Hanzo stared at him with a disgusted glare. "but the end of an era signifies another beginning. I suppose it is past time for you to feel the weight of your responsibility in your own hands."

Hanzo was momentarily confused. Before he could ask his uncle to clarify, Hayato drew something from behind his back, and held it on his two palms.

The words were lost in his throat as Hanzo gazed upon the sword in awe.

The _Ryū No Ken_ was unsheathed, revealing the curved silver blade that seemed to absorb the light around it, highlighting its glow. Halfway across the edge was slightly chipped, leaving a small jagged indent that was immortalized in numerous stories and legends told when he was little. The gold collar with two dragons around each others tails, forming a loop-their family symbol-gleamed as if recently polished, along with the blue leather braid around the grip. It was magnificent.

And it was now laying in front of Hanzo's eyes. Waiting.

With hands as steady as he could manage, Hanzo's arms went forward to greet the katana. It sank into his palms with considerable weight. The metal was cold to the touch, so cold it seemed to bite into his skin. The word 'frostbite' came leaping into his mind. 

"Master Hanzo..."

No, it _did_ bite into his skin. The edge buried itself in the folds of his palm, drawing blood. Hanzo watched, mesmerized, as the dark pool of red fragmented into dancing shadows, green and blue against a tapestry of stars-

_"...my brother's downfall..."_

-and everything before came flooding back, crashing like a hurricane. 

\---

_"...the Dragon Of The South Wind had triumphed, but as time passed and he realized his solitude, the sweetness of victory turned to ash._

_For years the bereaved dragon's grief threw the world into discord, and he knew only bitterness and sorrow..."_

 

  
"Genji...where is he?"

The air froze. Everyone went still, all eyes turning to the elderly man, who was beginning to sweat. Hanzo himself was shaking all over, still holding the deadly sword in his hands. Slowly Hayato took in a deep breath, thinking he was well prepared for this moment.

Lesson: never underestimate the wrath of a dragon. 

Turns out the weight wasn't a problem at all. In a blur of movement, Hanzo was already holding the blade at Hayato's neck, their faces so close together Hanzo could hear his spiked breathing. Tears shimmered in his own eyes, but that was the last thing he cared about. His vision blurred, the room faded into the background, and there is only him, his sword, and Hayato. And Genji. His brother's face was crystal clear. 

"My brother is dead, is he not?"

"Yes, Hanzo. You were victorious that ni-"

Hayato could feel the blade edge closer, the sharp end scrapping his skin, inches from his adam's apple. He was too frightened to swallow.

"Do not speak of him like he was a  _mission_. He was my brother, not a target!"

"Hanzo, put down the katana, and we'll talk..."

"About what? _How to bring my brother back?_ " Choking up, Hanzo could hear his strained voice close to breaking. "He was right. I was just another chess piece in your game." Hayato thought about shouting for help, but his head would probably fall before the guards could even open the door. The doctors were already shocked out of their wits. "I would not live like this, luxuriating in power I earned by killing my little brother.

"I will ask you this once. Just once." Hayato nodded in trepidation even before he could finish his sentence. "Where. Is. My. Bow."

"In the main hall. On the altar. Ne-next to the stand for the katana." Hayato tried to keep his anxiety under check. It wasn't easy. "Just so you know, Hanzo, the clan members are all in the castle right now. I wouldn't do something brash if I were you."

Hanzo paused, but his grip on the katana did not loosen. After a moment of painful struggling and self-control, he spoke up. "You will count to one thousand, slowly, before alerting your guards. You," he motioned towards the doctors, who were all shaking in fear. "would not help. I would rather not get any more blood on my hands, uncle, but my arrows can do the job for me, and you've seen what they can do."

Hanzo backed away, the _kissaki_ of the sword still on the old man's neck, his cream white patient's robe flapping gently. He looked into his uncle's eyes with pure loathing, and the man shrunk lower than he has even seen him before. "Start counting."

"One, two, three..."

"I said SLOW!"

"Four...five...six..."

With that, he returned the katana to his side as blood starting to drip down the hilt. Hanzo's eyes met those of Dr. Seishu, and he nodded. The dark-haired man got over his initial fright and nodded back, thick glasses tipping. 

With Hayato's mumbling still in his ears, Hanzo opened the door.

\---

It wasn't particularly surprising how easily he managed to get pass the guards and into his room with his grieving-son act, considering how he wasn't acting at all.

It was his doing that Genji was in the ground. His baby brother, killed with his own hands. He looked down at his bloody palms in disgust, shivering as tears streamed down his cheeks, his damp and matted hair clinging on his face, guilt and anger eating away at his already hollow insides. 

_"...wrist-deep in blood..."_

Genji's face-with his ridiculous green hair and hazel eyes and that cheerful laugh of his that never failed to warm him up inside-was burned into the back of his eyes, haunting him even in broad daylight. Hanzo started to choke up, and he clenched his fist harder. The stinging in his hand served as a reminder of the painful truth. His bedsheets were soaked in crimson.

Hanzo slung his satchel over his shoulder, and took one last look at the sky blue walls of his room, trying to recall any fond memories from his forgotten past worth treasuring.

(There was none, save for Genji's ringing laughter when they played Nintendo together, throwing insults and challenges at each other. Even that was beginning to fade, merging with his tortured screams of pain, confused, asking  _whereareyouhanzogodhelpmeithurtsithurts-)_

He slammed the door shut. 

\---

The altar was already filled with the soothing fragrance of sandalwood by the time Hanzo was there, the censer dispensing a thin wisp of smoke. Not one living soul was in sight. The painting of the Dragon brothers hung proudly overhead, and it sent another stab of pain through him, nails digging into a freshly healed wound. 

_The stranger. The dragon. healhealhealheal-_

Hanzo discovered something new since his last visit: a tall red scroll, a slash tearing apart the lower end, reaching high up to the ceiling beneath the mural.

竜頭蛇尾

_Head of a dragon, tail of a serpent._

Hanzo had no idea what it meant, and it disturbed him more than he would care to admit. 

The stand itself was empty, but the katana's scabbard was there below, a wooden sheath laced with a intricate yellow ribbon. He found his Storm Bow there too, lying against the wall next to his quiver. It provided some comfort, slight as it may be, to see his old friend back. 

As he slung his scratched and dusty bow and quiver over his shoulder and turned to leave, something went through his head, stopping him dead in his tracks. Something about an undeserved burden. 

Heaving a sigh, Hanzo returned to the altar, and carefully placed the katana he had been holding on in its stand. The handle and part of the edge were caked in dried blood, but Hanzo didn't bother to clean that off. The stain wasn't too obvious under the faint glow of paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling. 

"Make this my vow, _otōsama_ ," Hanzo said to the blade. "for I am not yet worthy to wield the _Ryū No Ken_. The dragons had shown me the path, and I will seek redemption before I return to rightfully claim the sword.

"Bear witness, Genji, for I will not return as the heir to the Shimada Castle until I have truly redeemed myself before the gods. I am beyond forgiveness, brother, but if you can hear me, grant me the strength I lack to battle the darkness within me."

Hanzo bowed to the blade, holding back tears, and retreated from the hall into the brightly lit compound, through the unguarded gates of the Shimada Castle, and into the hustling streets of Hanamura. The wind rose, urging him on his way.

For once, he did not look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note :  
> Kissaki : tip, point of a katana  
> Otōsan : father  
> 
> 
> References :  
> [The altar room before the mural was changed](http://cdn.mos.cms.futurecdn.net/L2NZpzo9rrZZ3A49ZyqTS7-650-80.jpg), [where Hanzo's family doctor got his name](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanaoka_Seish%C5%AB) and [the Shimada Dragon sword](https://i0.wp.com/www.lazygamer.net/images/2016/05/Swords.jpg?resize=820%2C347).  
> 
> 
> So that officially draws the past timeline to a close! I hope you guys like the little Tracer/Mercy/Morrison cameo.
> 
> And yes, I am aware that most fics have Mercy antagonize Hanzo for what he did to Genji, but I wanted to shake it up, because Hanzo *did* suffer for what he has done, and I couldn't have the rest of Overwatch hating on him when he was doing such a great job hating himself.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for sticking with me in this.
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jasonlyj99), [Tumblr](http://crusader-online99.tumblr.com/), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jasonl_ens)!  
> 


	4. Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo meets a worthy opponent in his homeland after years of self-imposed banishment.

4

_"One day, a stranger called up to the dragon and asked, "Oh, Dragon Lord! Why are you so distraught?" The dragon told him, "Seeking power, I killed my brother. But without him, I am lost..."_

_The stranger replied, "You have inflicted wounds upon yourself, but now, you must heal. Walk the earth on two feet as I do. Find value in humility. And then, you will find peace."_

 

  
**Twelve Years Later**

 

  
Movement.

With his eyes closed and kneeling on the bamboo mat, Hanzo let the aroma of sandalwood incense flood his senses. It was calming, but he did not let his guard down. The vibration in the air was small, almost inhumanly so, but Hanzo was no commonplace assassin either.

A commonplace assassin could not have infiltrated this heavily guarded place for a decade without being caught.

The Shimada clan was dismantled years ago, the organization collapsing under a power struggle after the departure of the young master and its elders eliminated or captured by Overwatch some years later ("Good riddance," thought Hanzo as Hayato's face appeared on the holovid, generating chatter in the bar while Hanzo, indifferent, sipped his sake) , but remnants of the family, mostly children and women, still occupy the family home. No matter how long gone the clan was, the family still had some legal business going on, and it was enough to hire armed personnel to safeguard this castle.

_My castle._

"To think that they would send an amateur who doesn't know how to conceal his presence, it seems that I have been greatly..."

Hanzo inserted the burning joss sticks in the brass cauldron, finishing his prayers. The altar room was the same as it was a year ago, and the year before, and the year before that. A slight disturbance in the flow of the wind was all that was needed to alert him of this foreign aura. 

"...underestimated."

A quiet whirring noise came from above, somewhere near the overhead beams. An Omnic. That was a first.

Very well. Let's see what this one can do.

Silent footsteps landed behind him, barely a tap on the wooden floor, followed by the soft whizzing of metal joints. He had to admit, this one was quieter than most sent to kill him.

"To think you would set foot into the Shimada Castle, I admit solely your courage." The modulated voice behind him said calmly, a young male. Hanzo had no recollection of that voice. No, he never crossed paths much with Omnics over the years, and an Omnic assassin would definitely be heard of, especially in a place as small as Japan. 

Hanzo opened his eyes, reaching out for his bow laying beside him. "This was once my home. Did you masters not tell you who I was?!"

Spinning around on his knees, he let an arrow fly, blue feathers zooming across the air. The cyborg, clad in a silver armor with brilliant green lighting and a visor, dodged the shot with ease as the arrow flew into the garden and out of sight. Now, looking at the sleek metal armor with the words "武神“ carved on the torso plate, Hanzo wasn't so sure. Had he seen, or heard about, this robot somewhere...?

"I know who you are, Hanzo."

 _"Know your enemies better than they, you,"_ came Hiro's voice in his ears. _"and from one thing, you know ten thousand things."_

Surprised and irritated, Hanzo sent another arrow flying sideways. It soared across the room in an arc-

-and lodged itself into the wooden floor with a thud. The assassin crouched, evading the arrow, the sheathed katana hanging on his back wobbling gently. A reflex action, like it was too easy for him. A challenge.

Hanzo's patience was running out; he had no mind to handle the Omnic's tricks. 

"I know that every year on the same day you set foot into this place..."

With a growl Hanzo nocked three arrows at once, and fired one by one. The first forced the cyborg behind a screen. The second and third punctured the paper, but missed their target as they sailed, losing velocity, into the empty hallway below. 

"...to honor and grieve over this corpse you _murdered_!"

Three shurikens came spinning towards him, and sank into the wall as Hanzo deflected them with his bow. He was dealing with an insider; only a Japanese would use three-edged shurikens. What else did it know? 

"You know _nothing_ of what happened!"

Hanzo nocked his arrow in a roll, and sent it straight at the Omnic. It tried to catch the arrow with its palm, but the sheer momentum of the shot knocked it back, sending it flying through a paper lantern and into the floor below. Hanzo caught up, watching as the assassin dashed into an enclosed corridor, trying to lure him in. 

Good. This shall end soon enough.

He aimed a scatter arrow at the floor and released. The splinters chased after the Omnic, but with its sword it deftly deflected them all in a flash of green with blinding speed. 

Hanzo cursed, his eyes following the trail of light, hesitant to give chase. This is getting out of hand.

He sprinted through the hall to follow, and was dismayed to see the assassin dash into the balcony.

The place that haunted his nightmares.

It was exactly the same as the last time he set foot into the place, a huge platform with wooden beams connecting the roof and the polished wooden floor, towering above the brightly lit city of Hanamura. Beyond the skyline, pink clouds littered the gray sky as dawn broke, a stream of vanilla fading upwards from the horizon, lighting up Mount Fuji. 

"Oh I know more than you think, Hanzo."

He fired a arrow to his left, but only the wall was there to greet him. _Fuck_. The assassin couldn't know that he panicked.

"I know you tell yourself that your brother disobeyed the clan, and you have to kill him to maintain order, that it was your _duty_. " The voice came from behind him. 

"It _was_ my duty, and my burden," He turned around after reloading and fired his shot at the Omnic, who swatted it away with ease. The arrow span several circles in the air and buried its head upright into the floor.

He reached for another, and was disheartened to find out that he was down to his last. He nocked it anyway.

"But that does not mean I do not honor him!"

Pulling the string as far back as he could, he fired the arrow with all the might his bow could withstand. It zipped across the air, and just when it was seconds from reaching the assassin, it raised its sword-

-and sliced the arrow across precisely in half. It flew apart and the two halves embedded themselves into the wall.

Hanzo was stunned for a moment, but the assassin was slowed down by his own movement as well. With a furious grunt, the archer leapt forward to greet his enemy, bow swinging. Hanzo easily outsized the Omnic, but its swift reflexes caused Hanzo to more often than not find himself charging towards thin air. The crisp sound of his bow clanging on metal sounded oddly familiar in Hanzo's ears, the wooden floor creaking against leaping footdrops-

He was distracted long enough for the Omnic to find a weak spot. It launched itself into the air and gave Hanzo a resounding kick to his chest, sending him stumbling backwards and crashing into the wooden fence. His vision was blurred by the shock, the air knocked out of his (definitely) bruised lungs, and he could see the assassin lunging itself towards him from above with its sword in hand when he came to.

He raised his bow to protect his face a moment before they came into contact, a loud metallic _cling_. The impact sent shards of wooden splinters flying into the yard below.

Finding himself on the defensive side now, Hanzo pushed with full force to block the sword, the tip inches before his eyes. The Omnic would not relent, a deadly reverse tug-of-war in play.

"You think you honor your brother Genji with incense and offerings? Honor resides in one's actions, not something you gain with words and prayers!"

Hanzo could feel his blood boiling, and the rush of adrenaline sent a surge of energy running through his veins. He spotted the stray arrow just five steps away, its head still plunged into the floor. "You dare to lecture me about _honor_? Do not utter my brother's name so lightly from that mouth of yours!"

He shifted his weight to his side, and gave the Omnic a hook over the neck when he stumbled forwards. With a flip he threw him onto the ground, and dashed across the floor to retrieve his arrow wedged in the wooden planks.

Nocking the arrow, he took a deep breath.

_I got this._

His identity as a drifter for the years past did not require so much as to summoning the dragon spirits, but they were always there, barely dormant, sworn protectors never leaving their shifts. It has been a while since he called upon Udon and Soba, but his primitive instincts kicked in almost instantly, and he could feel their restlessness under his skin once more.

His face and bare arm were illuminated by the dragons' blue glow as they swirled around the arrowhead, charged and thirsty for blood.

_"Ryuu ga waka TEKI WO KURAU!"_

His arrow exploded into a pair of gargantuan dragons in midair, two streaks of blue trailed by lightning sailing towards their prey in the other end, their roar screaming victory in his ears-

His jaw dropped when the Omnic made its move. _Nonononono-_

The assassin held its palm in front of it, a gesture of respect; from there it slashed at the air with its katana in a circular motion, the neon-lit blade swiping around it like a cyclone gaining speed. A beam of green soon trailed behind its sword, and its call hammered Hanzo's feet into the ground.

_"Ryuujin no ken O KURAE!"_

His mouth was agape as a green dragon as large as his own burst from the jet of light, a looming hologram of death and destruction. Hanzo was rooted to the spot, almost certain that he was too stunned to run, but the dragon never came. It pitted itself in the space between Udon and Soba, and the trio made a reroute around the assassin with a swing of its sword. The green creature soon glided upwards, leaving the twin charging towards Hanzo's direction.

The surge of energy from the dragons gliding past was enough to blast him backwards, and he had to raise an arm over his face to steady himself from being knocked over. Soon the creatures disappeared, bringing the supernatural glow with them and left the room with only the hissing noise of the Omnic releasing steam from its shoulders. Hanzo's legs buckled beneath him, and he fell to the ground on his knees, his bow dropping, slipping from his hand. 

The green dragon: it wasn't real. Perhaps hard light devices like the ones in Vishkar, or perhaps new Overwatch tech. Or Talon. It couldn't be real.

But Hanzo remembered the roar, remembered how it shook the earth beneath his feet. He remembered his worry when he saw news of another successful Overwatch strike back then, the scene littered with burnt bodies, an unseen force tearing the enemies apart, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake. 

"Only a Shimada can control the dragons... Who _are_ you...?"

Without a reply, the assassin came sprinting towards him at blinding speed, and Hanzo soon found a blade resting on his neck, forcing his torso to arch backwards.

But it stopped there.

"Why are you hesitating? Kill me." Hanzo said with contempt.

He could sense a pause, and soon the blade was drawn back. He caught a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

"There is no meaning in granting death to someone who wishes it." It slid its sword into the sheath, looking down at Hanzo. "You still have a purpose in life..."

"...brother."

Hanzo felt himself stumble forward. Voices in his head swarmed up, drowning him in their ineligible chant: _brotherbrothergenji?alivedeaddragonbrotherdownfall-_

"No...no. My brother is _dead_!" He picked up his bow and stood up facing the Omnic (cyborg?human?), eyebrows knotted into a frown. Disbelief. Anger. _Howdareyou-_

Wordlessly, it (he?) reached behind its neck and pushed a button somewhere on its armor. Its mask fell open with a hiss, and the piece of metal was slowly removed with a hand, revealing a face that was barely human.

His features were clear, but the skin around them was a wreck. His face was brown and rough and crusty, cracks and scars strewn all over his cheeks and nose. The eyes were bloodshot and murky, and Hanzo could barely see his pupils. He could not see even the shadow of his little brother on this disfigured face.

But those unmistakable brown eyes.

He saw himself kneeling in front of his father's sword on the first anniversary, chopping off his tumble of hair with quick, careless swipes, too ridden with guilt to retain his old self and his demons on his path to redemption; he saw himself curled up in bed as Genji's lifeless body, so fragile, so _small,_ haunted his restless nights and the stinging in his eyes that came with the horror; the years that went by as he came all the way across the world to return to his home, _their_ home, to pay respect to his fallen brother. These moments in time, his grief and sorrow and pain, all came back to him in a rush of bewilderment as he gazed upon those brown eyes, bringing the world around him into startling clarity.

A world of memories long forgotten but never extinguished. Shadows from his past, hunting him down. 

"Genji... what have you...become?" He struggled to meet his brother's gaze. 

Genji replaced his visor, breaking eye contact. His voice softened considerably when he spoke. "I have accepted my new self, and I have forgiven you," He rested a palm on Hanzo's bare shoulder. His touch was cold, but somehow it felt familiar. Reassuring. "What there is left is for you, brother, to forgive yourself.

"The world is in chaos once again, Hanzo," He approached the ledge before turning to take a look at his distraught brother. "And it's time to pick a side."

He took a leap into the air, landing on a tiled roof of a nearby pagoda, his black-colored scarf flapping in the wind. Hanzo stood motionless, still floored by the appearance of his long-lost brother, but something did not sit well with him, and the truth refused to settle in.

He pulled out another arrow fixed on the wall and nocked, pointing at the back of Genji's armor. But he was not truly aiming. Deep down, he would not allow himself to make that mistake once more.

"Our story is not like the fairy tales our father told us! You were a _fool_ for believing it so!" Hanzo cried, his voice already shaking.

"Perhaps I am a fool, to believe there is still hope for you," Genji replied with his back to his brother, voice collected and flowing with faith. It had never occurred to Hanzo how much he missed the ray of sunshine in his little brother's voice until now.

"But I do."

Genji finally turned around to face him, and Hanzo could have sworn that behind the mask was a hint of a smile. "We will meet again, brother."

With a nod, he disappeared in a whirlwind of smoke and dust, leaving nothing behind but a brown-colored feather that drifted slowly with the breeze.

\---

Sitting in the altar room with the sparrow feather laid in front of him, Hanzo looked up at the family sword, blank. The blood on the handle was long gone, and it gleamed in the light of the dawning sun.

"What should I do, _otōsama_?" He asked, weary. "Where should I go from here?"

The sword did not reply.

Above him, the mural of the dragon brothers was taken down, replaced by a painting of the Dragon Of The North Wind and the Dragon Of The South Wind in flight over the clouds, a graceful dance in the heavens. 

_Reunited._

Hanzo fished out an object as large as his fist from his knapsack, and was surprised to see an orange light blinking gently. He fiddled with the buttons, and finally flicked what was supposed to be the On/Off switch.

The word "RECALL" blazed in bold white letters on the comm screen.

A couple of years back, on Route 66, someone had handed this comm unit to Hanzo when he was having a drink. A man with peculiar wardrobe choices that went with the name Jesse McCree. Apparently he was recruiting for Overwatch, and was impressed ("only", he stressed, if that man was to be trusted) by Hanzo's skills in a casual dart game.

Hanzo had expressed his disinterest; working with an organization had not worked out well for him in the past. He bid his farewells and was about to leave when the man shoved the device into his palm.

"Keep it with ya, darlin', just in case," The cowboy had said with a grin that Hanzo could tell was genuine affection. He was rather fond of the scruffy cowboy, with his red serape and that ridiculous hat. A glass of free beer certainly helped; his pathetic attempt in flirting had amused Hanzo to no end. "Ain't gonna know when you'll be lookin' for a pardner, eh?"

Deciding not to disappoint the man ("Makuree?" "Yep, close enough."), Hanzo obliged and kept the device. It had stayed in a dusty corner of his mind ever since, only brought up when some intel about Overwatch reached his ears.

Knowing that Genji was alive, it suddenly struck him how rumors about a sword-wielding samurai in the watch sounded suspicious before.

_"The world is in chaos once again, Hanzo, and its time to pick a side."_

He should have known.

Finally having cracked a piece of the puzzle, Hanzo laughed in spite of himself.

He knew where Genji was now.

He knew where he needed to go.

\---

After leaping and crawling his way out of the castle, the static in the voice transmitter gradually stopped and was replaced by a continuous soft bleeping.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Hanzo yelled into the comm. No response. He was starting to worry that all those years took its toll on the seemingly wobbly device.

He looked behind him with his _kimono_ swaying in the wind, watching the dozen or so pagoda towers behind the looming stone walls as they basked in the golden shower of the morning light.

_I am finally one step closer to retrieving my sword, otōsama._

_The first after all these years._

And one less reason to break into this place, Hanzo thought to himself. His disbelief had melted away into something akin to relief.

Crackling voices came from the comm, like someone breathing into the mic too closely. Then a tapping sound that made the whole thing vibrate. Hanzo waited, anxious.

And out came a familiar voice that made Hanzo laughed a little. To be honest? He certainly missed the twang.

"Howdy! You've reached McCree! Who 'm I talkin' to?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References :  
> [The legendary animated short that gave birth to this fic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJ09xdxzIJQ), [where Hanzo met the cowboy](http://overwatch.wikia.com/wiki/File:Route66_14.png) (more of that coming in the next fic!), and the source of the [first](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Art_of_War) and [second](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Book_of_Five_Rings) war philosophy from Papa Shimada.
> 
> Note: segments from this chapter is lifted and modified from the Japanese sub version of the Dragons short, to better fit in my interpretation of the Genji-Hanzo dynamics.
> 
> Comments and criticism are much welcomed! Love y'all!
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jasonlyj99), [Tumblr](http://crusader-online99.tumblr.com/), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jasonl_ens)!  
> 


	5. Rebuild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo embraces his brother and Overwatch, rediscovering what he had lost and the meaning of family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. 
> 
> The last chapter of Where Dragons Fall. 
> 
> I try to make this fic mostly about the Shimadas, so I begin and end with the two brothers, hoping this work does the characters justice. Whether or not I am successful is up to you. But do tell me what you liked and what you didn't, so I can improve upon my writing! 
> 
> Before we kick this off, I would like to thank Krasimer who gave me invaluable advice on realizing the voices of certain characters. I truly hope that I had lived up to your guidance. Do check out his/her amazing work! 
> 
> Until then, enjoy!

 

When the helicopter landed near the outskirts of Hanamura, spurring sand and dust everywhere, the last thing Hanzo expected out of the vehicle was a literal gorilla. In a mech suit. With reading glasses.

McCree mentioned not a word who would pick him up, just where (open field, to prevent ambushes), when (8 in the morning, or earlier; they're on their way), how ("chopper", and Hanzo flinched). It was certainly baffling to Hanzo that Winston the legendary scientist would come in person to fetch a new recruit.

The gorilla walked (leaped?climbed?) over to Hanzo, his bulky white armor clunking with his enormous build, a limp in his steps. Returning from a recent battle perhaps? En route to base? Not that much of a VIP, after all.

Hanzo was still observing the gorilla's tousled fur around his face when a blurry apparition with a blue glowing trail zoomed out of the chopper. Before he could blink, a freckled-faced white girl sporting shades and shockingly spiky brown hair appeared right in front of him, startling Hanzo into drawing his bow. It took him a second to recognize Tracer, Overwatch's time-traveling agent. She followed up to the act with a light-hearted laugh, her Chronal Accelerator ring spinning idly on her chest.

"Great reflexes, dearie!" She removed the sunglasses from her forehead, blue-and-yellow pilot suit rippling in the wind. She disappeared again in a blink of light and reappeared behind him. "Oooh, what do we have here? An archer?" She fiddled with his bowstring, plucking with a soft _tweeng_. "Jesse sure found you at the right time!"

"Quit pestering Mr. Hanzo, Lena." Winston said, pulling a sleek white tablet previously held in his left palm. So he really could talk. "Mr. Hanzo, I'm Agent Winston, and this is Agent Tracer, Lena Oxton if you like. Agent McCree submitted a recommendation for recruitment regarding you joining Overwatch, am I right?" Hanzo nodded once. "I'm going to need some specifics on that since McCree didn't pass me much details. May I have your full name, the location and time of your meeting, and your reason and qualifications for joining Overwatch if that's possible?"

So they still didn't know. Then again, Hanzo thought, so didn't McCree, and a fresh wave of guilt washed up his chest. He cleared his throat.

"Me and Agent Makuree," a chuckle from Lena, which she tried to stifle but failed. "we met in a diner in Route 66. He lost in a dart throwing bet, most likely impressed by my skills, and proceeded to inquire my availability for recruitment in your organization."

Winston typed away furiously with fingers that should be too large to remotely press anything. "And how recently is that?"

"Seven years ago. More or less."

The girl and the gorilla looked up at him in unison.

"Oh. That's, heh, quite a history." He reverted his attention back to his screen, adjusting his glasses out of reflex. "That's...before Petras, in fact. Your occupation of late?"

"Drifter. Been traveling for the past twelve years, just..." He knew he needed to come clean right now, or never, which wasn't exactly an option. "Just escaping bounty."

That sure got Winston's full attention. Lena was nowhere to be seen, probably blinked off to have tea. Hanzo was impressed by himself to be able to make such a joke at this tense moment, and shook off that thought to focus on the gorilla's growing concern.

Winston noticed her absence as well, nervously looking around for any signs of the girl. He managed another shaky laugh. "Well, heh, we sure have our fill of people like you, that's for sure. Of what, if I may ask?"

"People hunt for me underground back then, but now they went there themselves. And then the Japanese government found me. Trafficking illegal firearms, black mart trades..."

"...and one account of fraticide, though that turned out to be a false accusation, to my recent knowledge."

Winston was clever, and it shouldn't take too much cleverness to connect the dots. His eyes went wide in an instance, mind already spinning in high gear, definitely panic now. Hanzo could almost swear he heard an audible _ding!_ "Holy hell, you're-"

"Hanzo Shimada, at your service." he said with a bow. He had not intended to be so smug, but Winston's petrified reaction tingled every prideful bone in his body. "I expect that would be suffice for my resume?"

***

The helicopter soared above an endless stretch of forest green, the afternoon sun stinging Hanzo's eyes as it reflected off the vehicle's side window despite his best efforts to keep his eyelids shut.

Hanzo held on to the handle like a lifeline, trying to calm himself amidst the violent shuddering of the chopper as Lena wrestled with the control. The wind gained speed shortly after leaving ground, and Hanzo could feel the gushing air shaking them even with the door closed. He tried not to look out, for the rows upon rows of trees zooming past made him dizzy, and the height certainly didn't help.

He never got himself used to air transportation since he much preferred being on solid ground. Being in a metal bird hanging in the sky felt...insecure. He would never willingly hand his life to something as unpredictable as the weather. Times where he needed to be abroad, sure, he managed to smuggle himself into cargo planes and trains, but the enclosed space of his quarters provided him the illusion of safety. He pictured his first flight in the business class, sipping rice wine and reading Kafka On The Shore for the umpteenth time, looking out to find himself cruising in a pleasant blue sky.

It certainly did not involve a gorilla sitting in the same cabin.

The turbulence ended as abruptly as it came, and soon the helicopter speeded ahead smoothly, the only noise being the sweeping blades overhead.

"Dear passengers," came Lena's cheerful voice from the headphones, but now even hers held an undercurrent of worry. "We're about to exit the borders of Fukuoka, and approx 6 hours from reaching Gibraltar. Sit tight, and thank you for choosing Tracer Airlines! Haha!"

Hanzo conjured up a mental world map: Japan to Spain means flying West, through the Asia mainland after passing the East China Sea...

The East China Sea.

Hanzo looked out just in time to watch the field of trees end on a cliff, and there it was.

The wide, wide sea.

Hanzo stared, mesmerized, at the vastness of the ocean, the never-ending-ness of it. Light glimmered on the surface under the high noon sun like the sparkle of diamonds. The waves rolled leisurely towards shore, crashing on the rocks with thick white foam as they flew past, backlighted by the blinding rays of light. The sea stretched on into the distance, as brilliant as the clear summer sky, distinguished only by the fine horizon line that separated heaven and earth. Seeing the expanse of water under his feet gave him the feeling of raw energy surging through his blood like summoning his dragons did, but instead of draining him, it invigorates, his skin growing warm and prickly-

"Are you feeling well, Mr. Shimada?"

Winston's calming voice jolted him out of his trance, and only then he realized he had been standing, his body leaning on the window, fists clenched. Taking a deep breath, Hanzo sat back down.

"My apologies. Flights often bring me discomfort."

"All the more reason to remain seated, don't you think?" His expression was clouded. Hanzo could sense all sorts of questions ranging from gentle curiosity to outright interrogation going through his head.

Lena, perhaps hearing the conversation, saved Winston the trouble. "Hanzo, amirite?" She called out over the droning.

"Yes, Agent Oxton."

She managed a chuckle. "Just call me Lena, love, or Tracer if you like. I don't suppose you, uh, happen to know someone high up in the clan, do you?"

"How high up are you implying, Lena?"

"I dunno, an elder in the clan? Or even the master perhaps?"

She was going for the small-talk route, but Hanzo saw through the heart of her question. He thought it over before uttering his answer, picking his words carefully. "I am the great-grandson of the clan founder, the fifth generation in line, and was the master, for a brief period of time in the past."

Lena hummed in reply, then, silence.

An eternity went by with nothing but the rushing water spanning out below them before Winston spoke in an low, unreadable voice.

"You _killed_ Genji, all those years back."

Another long pause. How should he react to an accusation like that? He thought that was obvious enough, beyond any confrontation. Turned out some things could not be forgotten, washed out by the current of time.

_Rock in a storm._

"Y'know, we rescued him from his home years ago," Lena started, her voice barely audible. "Barely breathing, he was, his body almost ruined like it was burned or something. Our healer had'a work on him for months, giving him a makeover. It was..."

The girl grew silent, her eyes still locked ahead, only the back of her helmet visible from Hanzo's seat. Winston was avoiding his gaze. Hanzo kept quiet and let her continue.

"Poor boy was devastated, took us a while to calm him down, ease him into trusting us. He wouldn't tell us much, but we know someone close to him made 'im wha- who he was today.

"The day we rescued Genji, there was someone else laying beside him too. There seemed like a duel of some sort. The man's also hurt pr'y bad.

"I'm gonna go 'head and 'sume that was you, love?"

"Yes," Hanzo answered through gritted teeth, and sighed in defeat. "A fight went down between me and Genji, a...mistake and miscalculation on my part. I express my gratitude to your organization for rescuing my brother. I was being foolish and careless, and I have no right-"

"Oh, we don't blame you, love!" Her voice began to grow apologetic. She shot a manners-please look at Winston, who grunted in disagreement at her direction. Nervous laughter arose. "Not me, anyway. We'll let the whole gang decide 'bout that. I trust Jesse's judgement tho, and if you're in, you're a family! And we don't hold grudges in a family!"

 _Family_.

The word sounded curiously foreign to Hanzo. One that belonged in a distant memory and shrouded in mist...

_"...my death...my brother..."_

...cocooned in layers upon layers of guilt and sleepless nights. Was that truly his life before? Somewhere he can claim he _belonged_? He still questioned his undoubtedly rash decision.

Hanzo closed his eyes, warding his nightmares away. It had consumed him before, back when he was still a child. The dragon had grown into something greater. Something wild.

But fear. He had never truly left it behind, after all. An omnipresent shadow, light as a sparrow yet as dense as fog.

***

Things Hanzo noticed appearing during his arrival in order: Lena's excited announcement, the distant brick red mountain coming into view, the tiny speck of red flapping in the wind, the Watchpoint building, and finally, McCree.

Oh God. He still has that serape, that hat, that peculiar belt buckle. He should've known: someone like McCree would never change.

 _Of all the important shit happening right now, you take notice of the cowboy's belt buckle_. A voice behind his mind chided. His face flushed at the thought. _Another flirter, a helpful friend. No more._

It was sometime around late afternoon when Hanzo finally touched ground, the stifling heat and the lack of any breakfast _and_ the seven-hour long flight making his stomach churn. His kimuno flapped furiously as the slowing helicopter blades blew wind in every direction, sending up sand and salt that stung his eyes. He blinked them away and looked around, taking in what was now Overwatch's base after their Swiss Headquarters got blown to smithereens.

Positioned on the lonesome, narrow cliff facing the ocean, the building was as fancy as one would expect from a scientist like Winston, covered in satellite dishes and ladders and metal buildings that were almost completely greyscale, the standout being the navy blue Overwatch flag that fluttered proudly on a pole, the untattered symbol of hope and courage.

Hanzo wondered about the "untattered" part.

Jesse McCree sat on a ladder near the mouth of the cave, fiddling with his revolver, feet tapping to an unheard rhythm. His shaded eyes lit up as he saw the trio approaching. He twirled the gun in his fingers for a second before slipping it into his holster.

Nothing but age managed to tamper with the cowboy's aesthetics: his red serape washed out and frayed at the edges; his arms and face a dark tan, lower jaw covered with an overgrowth of dark rough beard missing the last time Hanzo saw him; his build bulkier and sinewy than before beneath the tight red shirt printed with hibiscus, the sweat-soaked cloth revealing a lump of beer-belly; his Stetson hat still pristine, the tiny badge gleaming; his gun, bullets and flashbangs hanging low on his hip; his arm-

Hanzo paused. His arm.

"Will ya look a' that! The archer's 'ere!" The cowboy greeted with a wide grin, tipping his hat. Hanzo bowed in return. "Ne'er thought I would see ya here, fella. Hardly recognized ya, with that," McCree wagged his finger in front of him. "fancy beard and ponytail and that," he stared at his bare chest, and for the first time Hanzo was embarrassed of his _kimuno_. "er, weird shirt or whateverthatis you've got there. Wha's 'er name again? Somethin' like handsome if I remember righ'. " He tsked and winked at Hanzo, who was definitely blushing now. He would blame it on the heat if anyone mentioned it, Hanzo decided. Strange that he had been good at handling flirting before, be it man or women, but the cowboy managed to flutter him up bad.

"Hanzo. And you are Jesse Makuree, if I am not mistaken." He really tried, but he still had trouble pronouncing the (very) American name.

"Still can't shake that accent, didja? Just good to know someone's missing this cowboy!" McCree roared with laughter, slapping Hanzo's bare shoulder with his flesh arm. Shit. He could feel his neck burning up right now.

"Stop teasin' the man, Jesse!" Lena blinked behind McCree and chided, smacking him in the head, earning a growl of protest. Hanzo silently thanked the spiky-headed girl. "Let's get in now, team's waitin'! "

"You go on 'n get some rest now," Jesse spun her around, gently shoving her back. "You 'n Mr. Monkey there had a rough day. I'll show Hanzo here around."

"But-"

"You're soundin' like me gramma, sweetcakes. Don'tcha worry now, he'll be jus' fine with me. 'S not like I'mma eat him up." He said with a devilish wink and a click of his tongue. Hanzo looked almost imploringly at the girl, but she didn't seemed to catch his plea. She finally shot a knowing look at McCree and chuckled. "You owe me one this time, Jesse. Good luck to you, love!" She said to Hanzo with a two-finger salute. Before Hanzo could return the favor with a bow, she had already zoomed towards a dome-shaped building in a blur of blue light.

"Catch'up, darlin', don't wanna get loss in this huge-ass place!" McCree called from inside the cave. As big as he was, that man sure can move fast, Hanzo thought, sprinting towards him.

He proceeded to a slow walk alongside the taller man, the sound of their boots and feet scraping the ground echoing in the dank cavern. With one sweeping motion, McCree rested his robotic arm on Hanzo's shoulder, and pulled him close. His eyes went wide with surprise, but he dared not struggle or protest.

_Remember your training._

Hanzo's eyes were level to McCree's nose, and he could hear the yellow scarf tying up his hair flapping against the other's man's face. _flopflopflop_. Jesse didn't seemed to mind though.

_Avoid all distractions._

The man beside him smelled of smoke and booze, and a musky scent he couldn't quite place, like sweat with a hint of cinnamon...

 _"His scent_ ," a voice behind him said.

_Avoid all-_

He hastily looked for a topic to keep his mind off images that were beginning to make his pale cheeks burn as red as McCree's dirty serape.

"Your arm...I have never seen that in Panorama."

"Then you ain't payin' attention, darlin'," Darlin' again. Hanzo could tell he calls everyone names, but still. "Had it since my Blackwatch days, arm got shot off by one o' those Omnic fuckers. Angie, our healer, gave me this. Looks waaay better to be honest, but sure took some time gettin' used to."

Hanzo hummed a knowing smile, and he could feel McCree's eyes on him. "It Looks like we have more in common than I have previously thought, Jesse Makuree," He pulled up his kimuno to reveal his prosthetic legs. He assumed that McCree paid more attention to his face than his legs back then and, judging by his rather surprised expression, he was right.

"We sure do." was McCree's reply while he scratched his beard. They walked in silence for a while.

"So who gave you those?"

"My brother." Hanzo said and immediately regretted it.

"Well shit, dying ta' meet him already."

"You already have."

McCree's eyes fixated on him.  
  
"I am not who I appear to be, and there are things in my past that you need to know," Hanzo turned to face him, sizing the cowboy up. The way he stood with his hips arched to the side, the way he hung his head while looking down at Hanzo, the way his thumbs seemed to always be in his belt whenever idle. He would be very, very surprised if McCree didn't come from a Texas family that breeds cows and sheep, ride horses and play the guitar with a straw of hay in his mouth. "I am here for a reason, and that reason is likely right- _what is that?_ "

McCree turned his head towards the direction Hanzo was staring at, dumbfounded. A few dozen more steps in front of them was an otherworldly yellow ring of light, the source hidden in a doorless room behind the wall, its glow so intense the entire space around them was showered in a golden radiance, bathing Hanzo in a soothing warmth. It faded as soon as McCree began to talk.

"Prob'ly the Omnic monk, doin' his ritual with that Shimada kid. Healing, or stuff like that. Freaks me out sometimes. You wanna go take a look?"

But Hanzo was already moving, his legs carrying him to where the light used to be.

There were faint mechanical murmurs and creaking ahead. He broke into a run.

"Hey, wait up!" He could hear McCree calling from behind, huffing to catch up. Definitely not a stealth player, judging by his pace. Most likely the booze or smoke, Hanzo thought, or probably age. He wondered briefly how old McCree was.

As soon as Hanzo arrived at the doorway, the first thing he saw was where the light came from. An Omnic wearing orange baggy trousers was floating cross-legged in mid-air, a circle of fist-sized orbs glowing around him. He was clearly meditating, downcast eyes not in the slightest disturbed by Hanzo's footsteps.

But there was another figure sitting on the carpeted floor, resting, his sword beside him.

"Genji?"

Slowly, the cyborg-his brother-stood up, turning to face him.

The joy in his voice was unmistakable; he was most definitely smiling behind the mask.

"I knew you would come, _aniki_."

***

_"The dragon knelt upon the ground. For the first time he was able to clearly see the world around him, and he became human. The stranger revealed himself as his fallen brother. Reunited, the two set out to rebuild what they had once destroyed."_

 

 Through the window of his quarter, Hanzo had a magnificent view of the Gibraltan seascape, with the calm North Atlantic waters peppered by glimmers of sunlight, the busy port of Morocco a hazy island in the distance. A perfect day to take a breath outside, free his cluttered mind.

The translucent sliding door panel, connecting his neat and little space (a bed, a table, and a closet; all blindingly white with white walls, unfortunately, though Genji brought him a sky blue carpet and bedsheets in a touching gesture) to the now occupied common room, stood heavy between Hanzo and the rest of the world.

And McCree.

He should be out there right now, properly introducing himself, getting to know some of the new recruits. Truth was, their sideway glances-uncertain and suspicious and, worse of all, fearful-dug up old wounds long buried, tearing into scars he thought long since healed.

McCree most of all. He didn't say much as Genji led him to his new room, showing him training halls and offices that he forgot the second later. But Hanzo caught on to his moment of shock coming with the realization that his "pardner" was his old friend's brother. And murderer. Hanzo had no chance to verify what that look means, but he could guess. If he felt betrayed by himself, he could only imagine what McCree felt, and it pained him.

You do not belong here. Who are you amongst these heroes? _Murdererkinslayertraitor_ -

There was a light rap at the door, and Hanzo looked up from his bed to see Genji standing there, still in his mask. Athena must've opened the door.

"Care for a talk, Hanzo?"

"Of course. Come on in."

Hanzo put aside the bow he was polishing while Genji entered and silently closed the door. "You've been missing lunch, Hanzo, they were all wondering if you will ever show up anywhere else in the building." His visor remained a steady glow, expectant as he looked at Hanzo, face cocked to the side.

"I still got nervous looks and wherever I go, Genji. I am not prepared for this." Hanzo looked down at his legs, the metallic surface reflecting off light that pierced through the glass panel. He wondered what would've happened if the clan didn't install his prosthetics when he was unconscious all those years back; he probably still would've left Hanamura in a fit of rage, but he definitely wouldn't last more than a few years. Much less be here today, reunited with his brother. "You are adventurers, scientists, soldiers. I am neither of those. I cannot save lives like you can."

The cyborg sat down on the floor in front of him, making himself comfortable on the wooly carpet. "It is understandable. When I first came here, everything was so far away. I felt like a prisoner instead of an ally. Ramen was restless to the change too. He made life much worse for me here for a while, sometimes protesting in my sleep and dragging me back into nightmares."

"Ramen?" Hanzo was confused. His Omnic master's name, perhaps, peculiar as it was.

"My dragon."

Despite his circumstances, Hanzo let out a big, hearty guffaw. Genji continued to look at him, his head cocked to the other side. Confused. Hanzo was filled with a strange sense of relief that he could still read his brother like a book, even when his brother wasn't even in sight. "You find the name amusing?"

"Of course I do. I named my twin Udon and Soba."

Genji joined him in his laughter. The delightful sound, as clear as springtime bells, thoroughly warmed him up inside and made him feel at home again, when they were both children and playing with sticks under the cherry blossoms. Gods, what had he missed in all those years gone by?

"Guess we were both homesick and missing Rikimaru's noodles, then." Genji said with another chuckle. When their fits of laughter died down, Genji continued, his voice as soft as ever.

"You know, Hanzo, when Angela...fixed, me, I was out for almost a whole month. There was nothing but darkness." The green glow of his visor dimmed as he told his tale. "My body felt as if on fire, but it was not pain, but warmth. It eased the burns. I suppose that was Angela's doings. But before I woke, two blue dragons came to me, and they _spoke_."

Hanzo froze, his muscles tensing up. He only managed to find his voice much later. "What did they say?"

"They said that they were sorry. That they meant me no harm. They told me my brother is in greater pain than I am, and he left behind everything he has ever owned as punishment."

Genji looked at his older brother, who was still gazing out the window, deep in thought. Hanzo looked much older than he was, prematurely white sideburns and eyebrows growing on his ever-frowning face. It hurt Genji to see his brother in such deep sorrow, the flames of passion no longer burning in his eyes. The hot-blooded young master within him had died a long time ago. All that's left were dying embers in ashes. And a world of pain.

"They swam away soon after, and my Ramen came to me, his eyes ablaze with fury. But I patted his forehead and the fire was gone. He looked _worried_. I told him: 'Follow your brethren. Pass a message for me. Tell their master that-'"

"That my brother has forgiven me, and it was his fault as much as it was mine." Hanzo interrupted, finally looking at him. The memory blanks, words that never resurfaced with him, began bubbling up from the depths. "I remember now. What the green dragon had said. I could not recall back then, or perhaps I simply chose to be deaf." He let out a deep, long breath, and his pupils grew misty. "I wanted that scar to remain, to remind me of how I inflicted wounds upon those I love, so I would not make the same mistake again." He gazed at his brother, an angry look in his eyes. "For all I have done, I do not deserve to be in your ranks. I do not deserve this forgiveness."

Genji held Hanzo's hand in his. He couldn't feel them, but he could see, and his fingers were calloused after years upon years of archery. Their recent battle proved that his elder brother he always looked up to had not faltered, and he held that fact with fierce pride. "Leave the past behind, Hanzo, and let it not trouble you. We are here now, and these people," he motioned towards the door. "are our responsibility. The _world_ is our responsibility. Shed your regrets and guilt, use that strength to protect and guard over the weak. That is what Overwatch stands for." Genji stood up, steam shooting from his shoulder plates with a hiss. "Each and every one of us here are all broken in some ways, and so we move together as one. We protect this world not as adventurers, scientists, soldiers, ninjas. We protect it, as Overwatch. It guided me through the worst of times, and now, fate brings you here. Are you willing to join us, and fight for the future together?"

It took a moment of hesitation to arrive, but when it did, Hanzo's smile brightened the room, and the weight of the world melted around him.

"I suppose I do."

Genji held Hanzo's shoulder, firmer this time, and he could see the flames that once consumed him became his torch. There is still hope. "We will bring peace and justice to this world, Hanzo. This is our legacy, and we will build our empire right here. Where-"

_Scrap._

_The door._

Both their bodies perked up to the sound, barely audible. But they are descendants of the Shimada, and they are nothing if not masters at spotting danger. "I need your help in this, Hanzo." His voice dropped to a mischievous whisper, his visor gleaming with a curious pulse.

"Wha-"

Genji cleared his throat (Hanzo wasn't entirely sure if that was necessary or possible, but his whole mechanism seemed mystifying, so Hanzo didn't even bothered to ask), and what came out of it made his skin crawl.

With a high-pitch voice that was goosebumps-inducing, Genji cried, " _Oniichan_ ~" It sounded more like scratching a blackboard with chalk, but mix that with Genji modulations and it was the stuff of nightmares.

There was a noticeable gap in which Hanzo tried to understand what was going on when Genji pointed a thumb at the door, his eyes wide in realization and a certain level of disbelief. He took some time to adjust. "What do you want, Genji?" He raised his voice, sounding more petrified than eager. Never was a good actor himself, thought Hanzo.

"All I want is you, _oniichan_ ~"

Apparently that was more than the eavesdroppers could stand. A squeal-one that sounded more like the chubby Chinese girl than anyone else-came muffled through the glass door, and shushes that were louder than the noise itself. Scuttling sounds followed, and Genji swung the door open a second too late to shout into the now empty hallway. "Hana! Lúcio! Mei! And don't think I didn't see you, McCree! Get back here! _Ryuu jin no ken_ -" Hanzo could hear girlish giggles and shrieking.

Genji burst into laughter as Hanzo chuckled, finally relented, and stepped outside into the fluorescent hallway lights that buzzed overhead.

"Kids," Genji said, shaking his head. "How I miss the times when we were young. When everything in the world was a game and nothing more."

"So do I, brother," Hanzo couldn't agree more. "but that world is behind us now."

"You really need to work on your glumness, Hanzo," Genji said, a defeated droop in his shoulders. "It scares people off." Hanzo merely replied with a shrug.

Genji's threw his arm around him, and led him towards the common room where the kids (and the cowboy) were probably hiding. Hanzo's mind raced to prepare himself in facing McCree, but he wasn't afraid. Not anymore.

He had his brother beside him. And together they will repair every crack they inflicted on this earth.

"Come on," Genji said, "Let me introduce you to the rest of the family."  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes :  
> -Someone asked me if the timeline for Hanzo's and Genji's dragons visions are wrong. Theorize all you like what happened to cause the shift in time, but I assure you Genji _did_ see the dragons after Hanzo woke up.  
>  -My version of the museum attack occurred somewhere not in the US.  
> -60 years into the future, Overwatch would be equipped with helicopters that fly at higher speed than airplanes today. So don't slap a world map on my face and nitpick on geographic and physics inaccuracies. 
> 
>  
> 
> What a journey this had been. 
> 
> This was my first piece of English fiction work, and I savored every second writing it. For those who are willing to give it a chance to click into this, a million thanks to you! I have set up this universe with tons of unused ideas, so subscribe and stay tuned! 
> 
> Again, writing for all of you here has been a great pleasure. Till next time! 
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jasonlyj99), [Tumblr](http://crusader-online99.tumblr.com/), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jasonl_ens)!  
> 


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